by Yes Jack
He moved towards the open gate of the fort. To his left Indians, their faces besmeared with war-paint, were sprinting in the same direction. Their attention was not upon him, though. So insignificant was Talbot in appearance, that he had almost the ability of a chameleon for blending in to the background and not drawing attention to himself. The gate was wide open and as the warriors rushed through, emitting warbling cries and firing their pistols towards a group of soldiers who were running towards a fierce blaze which was engulfing one of the buildings, Talbot slipped through and then moved quickly to one side of the gate. Unless anybody looked directly at him, he was likely to remain unseen.
After taking stock of the situation, Talbot figured that the first task of all was to close the gates and prevent any more young braves swarming in. A brisk fire fight was raging over to one side of the parade ground. For their part the Kiowa, who he assumed these men to be, seemed to be armed mainly with pistols. Some of the cavalry troopers were carrying their carbines, which were being used to deadly effect. As a consequence, the Indians were now sheltering behind buildings and snapping off shots to try and pin down the soldiers and prevent them from making a rush to overwhelm the attackers.
From all that Talbot was able to apprehend, the band of Kiowa who were now inside the compound had not the slightest chance of taking control of or destroying the fort. If he was any judge, the soldiers would soon counter-attack and drive them out. Presumably, other Kiowa were on their way here and these men were no more than an advance party, whose job was to stop the men inside Fort Williams from closing the gates and defending their base against a serious assault. His job then, as he saw it, was to close the gates, so preventing any more Indians from entering the fort.
It was obvious to every one of the men huddled in the tepee that a battle was raging at no great distance from them. Bob Easton said, ‘You think Ben’s friends are comin’ out on top?’
‘I couldn’t say,’ replied Hilton, ‘I surely hope so. Else we might as soon’ve headed south and saved ourselves the trouble of this detour.’
‘What if the army wins?’
The other men looked at Tom Hilton, to see what answer he would make to this. He said at once, ‘I been giving the matter some thought. If what the ’breed says is right, there’s a large body o’ men ridin’ down on the fort this minute. Still and all, if those horse-soldiers come out ahead, it wouldn’t be healthy if they thought we’d had any part of it.’
It was generally accepted that their leader was fond of the sound of his own voice, but this was one of those times when all of the others in that tent were all thinking the self-same thing; that they wished Tom Hilton would just speed it up a mite, stop talking for the sake of it, and get to the point. Maybe Hilton sensed something of this, for he said, ‘No matter what the ’breed said, I’m a going to have a look-see out the door and see what’s what. ’Cause if the army are getting the upper hand, we need to be with them, not the Indians.’ Having said which, he moved to the flap closing off the entrance to the tepee and peered cautiously out. It was plain that what he saw was not to his liking, for he muttered, ‘Goddamn!’ under his breath and then stood up.
Casually and not behaving in the least as though it was anything important, Talbot Rogers walked over to the gates of Fort Williams and pushed them closed. All the while, he more than half-expected to feel the sickening thud of a bullet striking him in the back, either from the Indians or perhaps from some trooper who hadn’t the wit to make out the play yet. Even as he made his way towards the stout beam of wood which secured the massive gates in place, Talbot smiled to himself wryly at the idea of being killed by one of the soldiers he was aiming to save.
The Kiowa were all about twenty-five yards from the gate now, either lying on the ground or hiding behind buildings as they tried to pin down the soldiers and discourage them from making a determined assault. It was plain to Talbot Rogers what the strategy had been and he felt an unwilling admiration for the band of braves who were prepared to put their lives in danger in this way. He guessed that the main force was even now riding down from the hills. Obviously, if the men on the sentry walks overhead had seen a large body of riders heading towards Fort Williams, they would have closed the gates and sounded the alert. This way, while those men who had infiltrated the Indian village kept the army occupied, there would be no chance of closing the gate. When the attacking force arrived, they would simply ride in and take the fort by sheer weight of numbers. It was a sound enough scheme, but he, Talbot Rogers, was the man to put a spoke in it!
Most of the Indians had their backs to him and were too fully engaged in exchanging shots with the cavalry to notice that behind them a colourless-looking little man was strolling over to the gates of Fort Williams and closing them. All except for one brave, who, noticing what was happening and perhaps divining what was in Talbot’s mind, left his fellows and came charging at full speed towards the gates, pulling an enormous dagger from his belt as he did so. It was not one of those occasions where it would have been prudent to try and parlay, so Talbot Rogers simply drew his pistol and shot down the man while he was still half a dozen yards away.
The gates were closed, but it was still needful to raise up a heavy beam of wood and place it through the brackets affixed to the back of the gates. The firing of carbines increased substantially and Talbot guessed that at least some of the troopers had figured out the play now and were intent upon not giving the Indians a chance to look around and see what was afoot. As he stooped down to try and manhandle the bar into place, the crackle of musketry swelled and rose, until it sounded like one continuous, rumbling roar of thunder.
Tom Hilton said, ‘They’ve closed up the gates of the fort. Something’s gone awry.’
‘We best not be found here in a tepee then, I reckon,’ said Easton. There were murmurs of agreement.
Tom Hilton had two great strengths which tended towards making him a fine leader of a gang of bandits. One was that he never hesitated for the merest fraction of a second when it came to shooting or any other kind of bloodshed. The other was his ability to change plans without dwelling on the past, agonizing over the course that events had unexpectedly taken or indeed wasting any time in thought at all. The moment that it became clear that the Kiowa had somehow screwed up, Hilton knew that he and his men would have to throw in their hand with the white folk living in the nearby settlement on the other side of Fort Williams. With a little luck, they might even be able to represent themselves as the saviours of the situation.
‘Well, what are you bastards waiting for?’ growled Hilton. ‘Sooner we start helping put down this here rebellion, better it’ll be for us. You none o’ you recollected that according to the ’breed, there’s an army of them savages ridin’ down on us this minute?’
The realization that they would not after all be looting the Paymaster’s office at the fort was a bitter blow, but there are worse things in this world than not being afforded the opportunity to steal a heap of money. Being hanged as traitors to their race and country was one of those things. If the army had the least suspicion that Hilton and his boys had been mixed up in the uprising, then nothing would save them from summary justice. If the soldiers didn’t do for them, then the white folk in the nearby village would. Their best option now was to kill a few Indians and try and avert disaster for the men and women living next to Fort Williams. This was a sound strategy on another level, too. Finding the gates of the fort held against them and the army ready and waiting for them, the Kiowa might not be in precisely the mood to abide by any previous agreements made with some half-breed. They would not likely be inclined to massacre any white men upon whom they were able to lay their hands.
So it was that Tom Hilton and his men emerged from the tent and sprinted towards the white settlement to raise the alarm and alert the citizens there to the fact that at any moment, a vast number of Indians would be riding down on their town to destroy it and kill them all.
Chapter 11
Melanie heard the explosion at the fort and, like others, thought momentarily that it was a roll of thunder. Young as she was though, glancing out of the window at the cloudless, blue sky told her that this was improbable. Then when the rattle of gunfire began, she knew suddenly that she might once again be caught up in a dangerous situation. The only thought in her head was at once to seek out the only person she trusted to protect and take care of her. Forgetting all that had been most forcibly impressed upon her about the desirability of remaining in the room and not setting foot outside it, the girl slipped through the door and in another minute was standing in the dusty track which served as the main street of the little huddle of buildings which would, one day in the not too distant future, grow into the town of Fort Williams.
There was chaos in the street, with men running hither and thither, shouting and waving weapons about. Nobody appeared to know what was going on, other than that, from the sound of it, a war had broken out. Melanie couldn’t see Talbot Rogers anywhere, but then she suddenly heard him. From the sentry-walk of the nearby fort, there was a stentorian bellow. A man yelled at the top of his voice, ‘Hey, you people. Attend to what I say!’
The men milling about fell silent and looked up to where Talbot Rogers was cupping his hands around his mouth in order that his words should carry more clearly. When he was sure that he had gained their undivided attention, Talbot called down again, saying, ‘There’s a large crowd of riders heading down from yonder hills. Indians, by my guess. Get your womenfolk indoors and make ready to defend yourselves.’
Melanie drew breath to shout up to Talbot, but as she did so, there was a renewed outbreak of furious shooting from the fort and the man on the sentry-walk vanished instantly. The girl’s heart leaped into her mouth, with the fear that she was now left alone and with nobody to look after her. There was no chance to brood further on this alarming prospect, as a grizzled-looking old fellow took her arm and said, ‘You come along o’ me, missy. You can set in our place with m’wife. Can’t stay out here, there’s like to be gunplay in no time at all.’ Melanie allowed herself to be led into a log cabin, which was entered via a door with an exceedingly low lintel.
Lifting up the heavy beam and slotting it through the brackets to secure the gates of the fort against attack was no mean feat for a man of Talbot Rogers’s age and physique. Having accomplished the task without being gunned down in the endeavour, he felt a little out of breath but if he was right, there was not a second to lose. Once he was assured that no reinforcements could easily enter Fort Williams to relieve the beleaguered group of Indians who were now pinned down by the army’s fire, it was necessary to warn those outside the walls of the fort and let them know the danger that they were in.
Ladders led in several places up to the walkway which encircled the walls of Fort Williams. Talbot made his way up one such and, when he had gained the narrow planks along which sentries and lookouts patrolled, he looked across to the distant hills. A cloud of yellowish-grey dust was being kicked up by what looked to be a body of riders at least 200 strong. If these were Indians and they had arrived just a few minutes earlier, then Fort Williams would have surely fallen. As it was, it was going to be touch and go.
Talbot Rogers cupped his hand round his mouth again and hollered a warning down to the men and women he could see running about like headless chickens in the village below. Then a bullet went droning past his ear and Talbot knew it was time to make himself somewhat less of a target, which he promptly did by the simple expedient of throwing himself flat on the planks which made up the sentry walk, so that he was no longer silhouetted against the sky.
Tom Hilton glanced up when he heard somebody shouting from the fort. The firing was more sporadic now which, combined with the circumstance of the gates being closed against intruders, gave Hilton reason to suppose that the army were most probably gaining the advantage. It was a pity, but there it was. He and his boys still had the bearer bonds and there was nothing to hinder them from riding south, as had originally been the plan. Still and all, it would have been a fine thing to be able to loot the fort.
The men living next to Fort Williams were galvanized into action by the warning which Talbot Rogers had shouted down to them. The women were sent indoors and those men who had not been carrying weapons raced to their homes in order to arm themselves. When the half dozen strangers were spotted, approaching from the direction of the cluster of tepees, a couple of the men gave them odd looks. Tom Hilton was ready for this and spoke out at once. He shouted, ‘Lord, what ails you folk? Ain’t you afeared as you’ll be overrun? Let’s get those carts across the street here and make this place defensible. Those Kiowa’ll be coming from across yonder. You need to prepare!’
As he spoke in this way, Hilton and the men from his band began hauling crates from the front of a little store, as well as manhandling a buggy and a farm wagon so that they partially blocked the little street at one end. So confident and manly did he sound, that the townsfolk who had a few minutes earlier been at a loss to know how to proceed, took their lead from him and began erecting a barricade across the end of the street facing the gates of Fort Williams. In next to no time, Tom Hilton had managed to slip easily into the role of a man of action who knew just what needed to be done and was ready and willing to lend a hand in aid of complete strangers in their hour of need. Once again, Hilton’s gang thanked their lucky stars that they had such a versatile and quick-witted man to guide them.
Meanwhile, young Melanie was about to make an astonishing discovery. The cabin in which she had been lodged for safekeeping if, as seemed only too likely, there was to be shooting, was cramped, dark and none too fragrant-smelling. The old woman who had been charged with taking care of her had sat Melanie down at a table and offered her a glass of cold buttermilk. As she poured this out from an earthenware pitcher, she said, ‘What’s your name, honey?’
‘Melanie.’
‘Well, ain’t that a coincidence? I got a granddaughter by the self-same name. Pretty name, sight better than Susan, which is what they call me.’
‘Does your granddaughter live nearby?’
‘Ain’t seen her since she was but six months old. Her pa, which is to say my boy, he had a fallin’ out with his wife and he upped and left her and the baby. I’ve had no dealings with the child or her mother since.’
Outside the little shack, the distant gunfire, along with the shouting and tumult in the street outside, seemed to have subsided somewhat. The old woman gave Melanie a sharp glance and said, ‘For why are you lookin’ at me like that, miss? What’s wrong with you?’
For a moment, the girl did not reply. Then she said, ‘I was just wondering if . . . that’s to say, if I can ask, what’s your son called?’
‘That’s a strange thing to ask. His name’s Clarence. What of it?’
Melanie stood up and said in a choked voice, ‘I reckon then as I’m your granddaughter. My father’s name was Clarence.’
For all that she seemed so uncompromisingly tough, the old woman looked for a moment as though she might be about to faint with surprise. She said, ‘That’s my boy, all right. You travel here with him? He here now?’
The enormity of the events of the last few days caught up with the girl and she gulped back tears, before saying, ‘He’s dead, ma’am. Shot dead some days since. I’m sorry.’ Having said which, Melanie burst into tears. The old woman enfolded the child in her arms and also began to sob; the two of them standing there, clinging to each other and weeping. From without came the sound of renewed shooting, mingled with the ululating cries of Indian warriors. Battle had evidently been joined.
What in later years became known as the Battle of Fort Williams began unfavourably for the men and women in and around the fort. They were vastly outnumbered by the Kiowa forces which had descended from the hills with no other thought than to rid their land of the white men. The advance party who had attempted to seize Fort Williams were all dead now and troopers who joined Talbot Rogers up on
the sentry-walk gazed in awe at the huge body of riders that was heading towards them.
‘Lord almighty,’ observed one young fellow, ‘there must be nigh on a thousand of ’em.’
Talbot, whose military experience was a good deal more extensive than the boy who had given this estimate, said, ‘I should think more like 400 or 500. But it’s likely to be plenty enough for what they purpose. Unless we can pull a rabbit out of the hat, that is to say.’
A sergeant, who had also climbed up to spy out the strength of the enemy, said, ‘You seem acquainted with war, sir. I reckon we owe you thanks for closin’ up the gate.’
There were just over a hundred men in Fort Williams who were capable of bearing arms. At least a couple of dozen had been killed by the explosion at the mess hall and there were a fair number of casualties suffering from burns and blast wounds. Little could be done for these men, all efforts being focused upon surviving the onslaught from the Kiowa. Two young officers took command of the fort’s defence. Half the men were sent up onto the walkway to lay down intensive fire upon the attackers, while the rest were divided into two parties. If the Indians did finally over-run the fort, then they would pay a heavy price for doing so.
Talbot had his own ideas on the best way to proceed and once it was clear that the sentry-walk would be needed by the men with carbines, he made his way down a ladder and sought out one of the officers. The first he found was Captain Philips, the adjutant with whom he had earlier had an interview. When Philips saw Talbot, he called him over and said, ‘I’ll allow you were right about our danger. Will you fight along with us now?’